


Watching the rain

by korereapers



Series: FE3H fic series [8]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Family Drama, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, update: corrected some mistakes bc i wrote this at 1 am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:42:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22870432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korereapers/pseuds/korereapers
Summary: Felix looks outside, even if he has seen this same sight many times. This is his bedroom, after all, where he grew up as a child, where he became the man he is now, mostly. Sylvain can vividly remember Felix’s then shy expression, looking at him with sheer admiration, and Sylvain finding him utterly adorable.Felix looks outside, but Sylvain is just looking at him, at his face. Glenn’s face. Rodrigue’s face.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: FE3H fic series [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773310
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	Watching the rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadowdance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowdance/gifts).



> I just. Had to. I wrote this in like an hour so please excuse the many mistakes it has bc it's also like 1 am okay??? im sorry  
> ill. give it a read tomorrow i'm just releasing this into the wild
> 
> this was inspired by shadowdance's awesome fanfic about felix and glenn. give them a read. my stuff pales in comparison i'm sorry that's just facts

They are sitting together, by the window, Felix sitting between his legs, eyes idly looking at the rain outside.

It’s unusual for Felix to feel this calm, to just snuggle with him while they have a little moment of peace. War changes people, he supposes. Maybe they’re just getting old. Maybe, now that Felix has more time to think, he is actually remembering the most recent years, and assimilating them the best way he can. That, he can understand, because he feels the same.

Not that Sylvain is complaining, at least not about the snuggling part.

Felix looks outside, even if he has seen this same sight many times. This is his bedroom, after all, where he grew up as a child, where he became the man he is now, mostly. Sylvain can vividly remember Felix’s then shy expression, looking at him with sheer admiration, and Sylvain finding him utterly adorable.

Felix looks outside, but Sylvain is just looking at him, at his face. Glenn’s face. Rodrigue’s face.

Back in the day, Sylvain was more interested in Glenn, Felix’s older brother. He was two years older than Felix, the same age as Sylvain, so it was only natural that he got along with him better at first. Sylvain admired Rodrigue, Felix’s and Glenn’s father, with his calm smile and his obvious chivalry. The way he looked at his children, his eyes shining with utter adoration.

So different to Sylvain’s own father.

He wondered, back in the day, if they could be something akin to brothers to him. He doesn’t really like to admit it, because he dislikes speaking ill of the dead, but Miklan’s visceral hate towards him had made him desperate. His father’s conditional love had made him desperate. He was jealous, of them, of their relationship, loving brothers who actually cared for each other. Who actually loved each other. Now, it feels completely unfair, given Felix’s circumstances, and given that the Fraldarius household was not to blame for how shitty the Gautier one was. 

Things were simpler back then. Way simpler.

Then, Felix became his best friend, the one he told even his deepest fears, his most secret thoughts.

And then, Glenn died. Suddenly. Just like that. A heroic death, Rodrigue would say. A foolish one, according to Felix, who guarded his own sweetness behind layers and layers of bitterness. Towards his father, who looked at him with disappointment, comparing him to a loving brother who couldn’t argue anymore. Towards Dimitri, their friend and their prince, because dying to protect a prince and leaving your loved ones behind didn’t look so heroic anymore.

Sylvain wonders how Felix feels now, having lost both of his brother and father to protect the same man, and leaving him behind. Felix is difficult, to deal with, to understand, but Sylvain has gotten a little wiser since the war. Only a little.

He looks at Felix, the slight frown on his face, his brown eyes vacant, and he sees the face of two dead men. The man Glenn could have been but never was. The man that Felix will be, and Rodrigue will never be able to become.

Sylvain wonders if his own face looks anything like Miklan’s, or his own father, deceased just a year ago of natural causes. If he is wearing the face of two dead men, too.

“You are tense. It’s pissing me off.” Felix murmurs, and Sylvain knows it’s his way of asking if he is okay.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” he assures him, smiling when Felix looks at him.

Felix doesn’t usually look at people in the eye. It’s something that Sylvain knows and accepts. He is not good at nonverbal language, and it feels foreign to him. Always has. When Glenn died, it got worse. Sylvain knows that not looking at people in the eye is also a way of keeping his distance, of keeping people at arm’s length.

He knows that Felix can tell that his smile is fake. That it doesn’t reach his eyes. He expects an angry Felix, not a sweet one who caresses his face clumsily, looking at him from below. Felix is not good at being affectionate, but Goddess, he tries. When they are alone, and he feels safe, enough to let his vulnerability out, he tries. Sylvain kisses his hand, and Felix smiles slightly, his face turning a little pinker.

“I was just. Thinking about my brother. And my father.”

That gets Felix’s attention, and this time, he does look at him in the eye.

“I… I was…”

And Sylvain realises that these kind of thoughts plague Felix often, too. Come to think of it, the day that Glenn died it was raining in the Fraldarius household. He had completely forgotten about it. Maybe, he thinks, sadness pooling inside of him, Felix remembers him everytime it rains. Maybe his frustration is not just because of not being able to train outside. Maybe Felix is just terrible at expressing his softest feelings.

Sylvain kisses his forehead, reassuring, trying to calm him down.

“You miss them, too. It hurts. It still hurts.” he says, half an affirmation, half a question.

Felix averts his eyes, his frown deepening.

“Ingrid lost her fiance, Sylvain. Whatever I have endured, it’s nothing near to what she has suffered.”

Sylvain remembers Ingrid’s reaction when she got the news. A desperate cry, coming from deep inside. Loud, compared to Felix’s silent grief, that almost looked like apathy. Ingrid had lost her fiance, the man she loved, the man who gave meaning to everything she was doing.

Both of them felt lost, Sylvain realises. 

Ingrid, with her whole life being about pleasing her parents and saving her family, marriage with a fellow nobleman being her main objective no matter what her heart screamed. Ingrid, who loved Glenn and felt unable to go through another marriage arrangement anymore. Ingrid, who had so much pressure over her shoulders and still kept being strong and responsible. Unlike himself. Sylvain avoids the feeling of guilt like the plague. Felix needs him.

Felix, the youngest Fraldarius brother, looking at Glenn with wide eyes since he can remember. Felix, being taught about chivalry, about protecting their kingdom, their king and the royal family. Felix, small and scared Felix, feeling lost without the gentle hand that had always guided him. Feeling betrayed by his father, by his values. Felix, scared of getting hurt, making himself strong to the point of rejecting his own feelings.

He wants to kiss him, Sylvain realises. And give Ingrid a big hug the next time he sees her. She will be confused as hell, but Sylvain's lips are sealed.

“You’re dodging the question.” he says instead. Felix groans, and for a moment, Sylvain feels that he is just going to leave, but Felix doesn’t move.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Glenn died a very unfair death.” he pronounces Glenn’s name on purpose, knowing it hurts, but also aware that addressing it will help it heal. He feels Felix tensing, actual pain in his eyes, and he feels guilty yet again.

“So did Miklan.”

Miklan, his brother, who had tried to kill since he was born, jealous of him, of his crest, of the attention he got from his father. Of a love that was entirely conditional. Miklan, who Sylvain had impaled in the end by the Church’s orders. Miklan, who had become a monster in front of him, so he had had to kill him yet again. 

He can feel the Lance of Ruin twitching in the distance. Alive, and dead at the same time. He wants to puke at the thought.

Sylvain’s expression goes uncharacteristically dark, his façade gone. And then, Felix panics, guilt in his eyes.

“I… I didn’t mean it like that.”

Sylvain sighs, shaking his head. He never loved his brother the same way that Glenn and Felix loved each other. Still, Miklan was his brother. And maybe, if they had had different circumstances, a different father, or those fucking crests weren’t that important or didn’t exist at all…

Maybe he could have been loved. Truly loved.

“I know, I know. I know what you meant. Don’t worry.”

He smiles again, but the smile feels even more tense than usual. Felix touches him again, his hand trembling with guilt. Sylvain takes it in his own, his thumb caressing it with utter devotion.

“I want this part of you too, you know.” Felix says, his eyes nervously darting from Sylvain’s face to the window. His face is flushed, and Sylvain thinks he looks beautiful like this, with casual clothes, his dark hair down. He feels himself blushing, too, his own dark eyes widening, and he wonders if his face is as red as his hair.

“What do you mean?” he asks, his voice weak, feeling raw and exposed in front of Felix, but knowing that the feeling is absolutely reciprocal.

“I mean, that you don’t have to pretend in front of me.” Felix says, his voice sweeter than usual, and as soon as he realises, his expression changes to a harsher one. “If you lie to me about your true feelings, I’ll fucking stab you.”

He would not. He would never. Sylvain knows that if they had to fight each other during the war, it would have hurt him as much as it would have hurt Sylvain.

“I could say the same about you, you know.”

“Shut up.”

Sylvain laughs, and this time, he kisses him. On the nose, on the cheeks, on the lips. Felix sits up, and kisses him too, trembling when Sylvain embraces him, unconsciously getting closer to him, looking for Sylvain’s warmth.

“I love you.” Felix murmurs against Sylvain’s mouth, like a confession. Allowing himself to feel, and to let others know he feels.

“I love you, too.” Sylvain answers, louder, because love was made for him, too, because he doesn’t need a crest, or a family name, or anything at all, to be loved and cherished the same way that he loves and cherishes Felix.

Felix smiles, averting his eyes again, looking at the rain. His eyes are wet, too, Sylvain realises. He doesn’t comment on it. His fingers play with Felix’s hair, getting it out of the way, and kissing his nape afterwards. The shaky sigh that leaves Felix’s lips is enough to make him smile, this time for real.

They both keep watching the rain, but Sylvain realises, given the looks Felix gives him from time to time, biting his lower lip afterwards with the shyness that he remembers from back when they were children, that there will be way more interesting things to watch in a matter of minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> My fanfic sideblog (on tumblr) is @prayforfroot  
> My main one is @eskuhotzak
> 
> come yell at me
> 
> also think about felix, who felt left behind by his brother; and about sylvain who never felt truly loved for who he was. both of them. making that one promise. think about it


End file.
